


Maybe,

by frozenpapers



Category: Frozen (2013), Kristelsa - Fandom, Kristoff and Elsa, Kristoff x Elsa
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1788508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenpapers/pseuds/frozenpapers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Kristoff x Elsa; Five years pre-Frozen]</p><p>With their eyes locked on each other, cold blue eyes to warm hazel, they knew that isolation would never suffice... ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just

He watched her sit on the fresh powder, her hair falling over her face. He had never seen her before – in fact, he hadn’t seen anyone lately due to his isolation and the cold weather December brought. But nevertheless, her figure didn’t ring a bell. Her voice seemed to lull him into oblivion as he admired its intensity and beauty. If there was one thing he loved besides ice, it was a voice that could send you to thousands of places. With a sigh of praise, he leaned on the branch to watch her do whatever she was doing.

_She looked like an angel._

A smile flitted across his stubborn bland face, her voice ringing in his ears, spiraling from his mind to his heart, taking his breath away. And for the first time in years, he found himself weakening over a woman who was merely a stranger to him. But she wasn’t a stranger, he felt like he knew her, that they shared some sort of connection over the past years. And he knew for himself that this was _absurd_ and _farcically impossible_. The fact that he kept to himself on the mountains for years harvesting ice and spending the night with his _family_ , made the whole thing comical. Perhaps she was a customer. But he knew that if she was, the only thing they might have shared was a word or two since he was incapable of being affable. And perhaps he was romancing the whole pleasant situation inasmuch as he had spent his days alone – sans Sven, of course – and had often spent his vacant times reading novels he had purchased from a local merchant. It wasn’t impossible for he had often wondered about what it would feel like if he was slapped with a generous amount of _true love_.

_Who wouldn’t want a fairytale ending anyway?_

And he wasn’t the one to deny it. He had plenty of dreams about it, about how he would fall in love someday soon, about how he would spend the rest of his life with his family – a family of his own. Growing old next to a woman you would give up your whole life to, waking up next to the perfect outlines of her face, her eyes, her nose, and her lips, and memorizing every scrunch and every wrinkle from every inch of her body to face. And perhaps he was being too much of a _Don Quixote_ , but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to grow old and wake up to the outline of his reindeer’s face albeit he was more like a best friend – brother to him than an unusual pet.

He had high expectations, he mused, _but don’t we all?_

The sudden surmount of silence broke him off of his stupor, forcing him to blink awkwardly as if he was awaken from a thousand year sleep. He found himself then looking directly into her sharp blue eyes that displayed skepticism and the natural wave of defense. He expected a simple _Hi_ or _how’s it going_ from her, but instead he received a hard glare and a raise of a skeptical eyebrow.

She kept her eyes level to his, hoping that she would intimidate him. “Who are you?” Her voice was glass, clear and sharp as she cautiously freed her shaking hand from the glove.

“I would ask you the same question.” He murmured low with sarcasm as he stood up, revealing his rather rotund physique.

She raised her hand in defense that made him scoff and shake his head. “Please, don’t hurt me.” The dribbles of fear showed in the way she had phrased her sentence, her hand slightly shaking as she tried her best to _conceal, don’t feel_.

“I wasn’t going to.” He stated as he walked towards her, ignoring the way she cowered in fear. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He assured her as he sat next to her with a frown, a mere inch separating them.

_What are you so afraid of?_

She didn’t protest, instead, she looked down at the piles of snow that was beginning to pester her. Mocked by her own powers, she listened to silence and the steady breaths he made. She sighed as she stole a quick glance and looked back at her hands. She wasn’t used to company for she had kept to herself all the while, avoiding human contact as much as possible. She was used talking to pictures, treating them like friends she knew she would never have. With that, it gave her the unfortunate talent in avoiding small talk or rather incapability of _starting_ one.

_He seems harmless._

She sighed once more as she lifted her gaze to stare over the mountains, the kingdom below blanketed in thick layers of snow. It was beautiful, yet depressing. She had to convince herself that it wasn’t her _fault_ that the weather was unpleasant, that it was _part_ of nature. But whenever she did, she would always end up looking at her hands with a sad smile on her face.

_I wish I could believe that._

“I just love days like these.” He said, loud enough to get her attention as he pillowed his hands and lied on the cold soft ground.

Piqued, she turned to look at him. “You do?” She couldn’t tone down the surprise in her voice, knowing that this was the first time she had heard someone state how they enjoyed the _direful cold_. And suddenly she had the urge to get to know him.

“Don’t you?” He raised a brow at her. “I mean, just look at it. It’s beautiful.” He said as he looked at the pine trees that were covered in snow.

She bit her lip as she tucked her hair behind her ear and hesitantly replied, “It’s beautiful.” She stated as if he hadn’t said that before. Her hands ceased to shake as a comfortable smile eased on her face.

“You’re smiling. I like that.” He stated with a smile as he looked at her in admiration.

She bit her lip to suppress the silly smile, pinking at the way he stared at her.

“Don’t stop.” He grinned. “You look beautiful.” His grin grew wider as he watched her fluster over a simple compliment.

She rolled her eyes at him as she freed the other from the glove’s embrace, pressing her cold hands on her cheeks in the hopes to stop herself from being completely humiliated in front of a stranger. “Stop staring at me like that.” A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she looked away, the rush of embarrassment tinting her pale face even more.

Deciding it was best not to torture her with merely a look of appreciation, he looked away. “I’ve always appreciated ice. It’s just… breathtaking.” He sighed absentmindedly.

He rambled, and she watched patiently beside him, holding a smile that was true after the cold years of isolation. His interest fascinated her, just as the way his eyes brightened at the things he enjoyed made her heart swell. Whilst he was going on and on about ice harvesting, she took her time watching how his facial features changed depending on the story he was relaying to her. She laughed and he smiled, she smiled and he laughed, it all seemed like a routine. Then afterwards, she found herself lying next to him, her eyes locked on his, the trace of smiles engraving their once lonely faces, not a worry or doubt circling their minds. They stayed like this until the sun decided it was time to slowly sink into oblivion, each not saying a word lest they break the moment they were sharing. The smile never left, albeit their eyes were clouded in what seemed like an awful amount of love and understanding. Smiles to grins, their eyes still held each other as if it was the most normal thing to do, as if they were both holding a silent conversation only they could understand. But then a nervous laugh escaped from her lips as she looked away and into the sky.

“My name’s Elsa, by the way.” She sighed as she clasped her hands and placed them on her stomach, the smile still staining her face. She refused to address herself as the _princess_. “ _Just_ Elsa,”

 _He wanted to kiss her_.

He knew exactly who she was, the princess, the queen and the king’s heir, the mysterious daughter, yet beautiful. “I’m Kristoff.” He shifted on his side to smile at her. “ _Just_ Kristoff,”


	2. Her

The weather was direful as she trudged through the knee deep snow. The cold thick air enveloped her, the snowflakes blinding her path as she continued to go wherever her heart would lead her. She scoffed at herself as she pushed her bangs off of her pale face, struggling to continue through the storm. She should have stayed indoors, she mused, unaware that a dead trunk was in her way. Her foot was caught – unfortunately – and she was left no choice but to flail on the depths of the snow. Well, not until he caught her.

“Glad I caught you,” he grinned albeit he knew that she may not see him doing so.

She cleared her throat as she pushed herself off of him, grimacing and glaring up at him, her eyes crystal blue.

He shook his head as he buried himself in the thick set of clothing he had carried just in case. “That’s what I get after I saved you, oh _Damsel in Distress_?” He asked with sarcasm, smiling that _smile_ of his that made her melt – _unfortunately_.

She dusted off the snow that piled on her dress, avoiding his menacing hazel eyes that cut through her. Her grimace turned into a frown. “I prefer _travail_.” She mumbled as she rolled her eyes at him. “Now what do you want now, _Bjorgman_?” The annoyance in her voice was very thin as if it was being concealed for _queenly_ purposes.

He folded his arms against his chest. “A simple _thank you_ would suffice.” He remarked as he watched her with humor.

For what seemed like the _thirteenth_ time, she rolled her eyes at him. “Well, thank you, _Your Majesty_.” She said as she stuck her tongue out childishly at him.

He could only laugh at her puerility. “I think I’m supposed to call you that.” He raised a brow at her. “What seems to be bothering you?”

She muttered a curse. “No one should tell me what a princess _should_ be.” She turned her head from left to right, hoping that she would see something other than _white_.

He scratched his head as he looked from left to right as if it was helpful to do so. He shrugged as he followed her journey through the unbeknownst ahead, his questions silenced, his lips sealed, letting her fill the air with the trudge of their feet and her abstruse mutterings. He rubbed his arms for warmth, the cold becoming undoubtedly unbearable as each second passed by, as each second passed by _with_ her. It was absurd, he mused, to think that such things as weather was connected to her. Perhaps he was just being the romantic himself, idealizing every action to fiction, turning something _ordinary_ into something extraordinary yet probably, _dangerous_. The idea wasn’t implausible as he had spent his time with _trolls_ that were more than a myth to the people that resided in the small towns and outskirts. If magic existed in his life, shouldn’t it have existed in someone else’s?  But mayhap he was just over thinking things, _again_. Then again, it would be novel to have someone who wields the power of snow and ice as acquaintance. It would be nice to share the things he loves to someone who can understand it, someone who possibly felt the same way about it.

But the question was why was he _situating_ her in such a position?

Perchance it was because he was growing fond of her. He frowned at that. The thought was asinine and utterly risible as he had only met her _two_ days ago. And they weren’t even the slightest friends; in fact, they were merely strangers who enjoyed what isolation had to offer for the both of them and the dreaded cold that haunted through the nights of December to February. They shared and reveled the perfect symmetries of sarcasm, the dripping venom, and the glares they casually received from each other, but that doesn’t mean that they were _meant to be_ , per se. And he wasn’t hoping for that – or was he? He shook his head, he _wasn’t_. She is a _princess_ , the heir to the throne, and he was merely an ice harvester, a destitute ice harvester who has a reindeer for a pet and trolls for a family. It was funny, and he, being a sensible ice harvester, would not entangle himself with something so comical.

There was a logical reason as to why he saw her as the _ice queen_ Grand Pabbie was always telling him about. She was to be queen and uncannily loved the winter weather. She possessed the glacial blue eyes and the platinum long lock of hair the queen had. And wasn’t those enough to convince him that she was rather, the queen of all things white and cold? And didn’t she resemble the little girl he watched behind the rock?

“They always seem to forget that I’m _human_ too.” She muttered as she rolled her eyes tactlessly, her teeth set, her hands fisted.

And albeit he knew for himself that it was rude to ask such _question_ , he proceeded anyway. “Why aren’t you wearing any winter clothes?” He asked her as he tested his theory notwithstanding the fact that he had already told himself that she wasn’t by any chance the cold queen from the _prophecy_.

Elsa raised a brow at his curiosity, pursing her lips as she fumbled for the right words. She told him what she had always told everyone – _if there was everyone_. “The cold never bothered me.” She shrugged as if it was a measly little fault.

He scoffed at this as he removed his coat – hesitantly – and placed it over her small shoulders. “You’re going to get frostbite.” He said as he wrapped the thick coat tighter around her as if she was a lost frail little girl.

She appreciated the concern, but furrowed her brows at it. “You need this more than I do.” She said as she looked up at him.

He sniffled. “That’s absurd.” He stated as his breath shortened.

She decided to be forthright albeit it would mean the _truth_. Why would she be afraid of a meager ice harvester? If a rumor was to reach the tips of Arendelle, the people would only regard him as an insane commoner who spent his time a little too much on the mountains. After all, the whole idea was quite absurd.

She sighed. “This is not.” She had to thank God she hadn’t worn her gloves as she brought her hand up and conjured a series of snowflakes.

He stared, jarred at what he could see. He shook his head, blinked his eyes, pinched his arm once – twice – _thrice_ , just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming, that he wasn’t right in front of the _snow queen_ he had been searching for since he was a little eight year old.

He closed his mouth shut as he casted his eyes to her smiling ones and stuttered a coherent sentence. “You’re –You’re _her_.”


	3. Answer

_He’s been contemplating whether to ask her or not._

She sat in between his thighs, her head rested on his chest, listening to the slow steady beating of his heart. A contented smile splayed on her face, her figure seeming radiant beneath the flakes that rested on her. Her hand subdued in his _much_ prodigious hand as she reveled the warmth it had provided her and the butterflies that came with it as well. Her eyes were distant as she thought of nothing but the love that was slowly growing inside her, consuming the fear and dissolving the horrid stringent walls she had been building ever since she was a mere child. And without fear, she had garnered the control she thought impossible to find and to gain. She gave her _useless_ gloves a quick glance as her smile grew wider – wider than she thought she could manage.

_Love will thaw._

Her heart skipped a beat as color tinged her prevalent pallor. She had always been an avid reader. To escape the isolation she was forced to swallow, she surrounded her reality with thousands of bleeding words on paper that made up the stories she had considered her _family_. Those fairytale books of princesses had promised her the unfortunate kiss of true love and a happy ending. And being the naïve sixteen year old she was, she welcomed these _abecedarian_ thoughts with open arms without knowing that this was not how things worked around the outside world. But what can you expect from a petty isolated child?

But despite how often times she had walked into a couple in the middle of an afternoon spat, she still had hold on to what she thought was right. _What crude world wouldn’t have happy endings, anyway?_ She refused to believe that these stories were of fickle imagination and not of reality. She refused to have _reality_ detest what she had convinced herself to believe. She refused to believe that _this_ family she had been considered was only sugarcoating what’s horrid and bitter. Because that would break her, and she was already broken enough to be broken further. And what kind of God would steal that last piece of grain from her plate? Surely there was not a kind who would do such a brute thing. After all, if there was, then who was listening to her and answering her prayers? Albeit only half of them – a _quarter_ to be exact – had been answered. At least they were _answered._

She buried herself further into his embrace as she told herself to forget the hostilities that were poisoning her mind. She was human; of course she deserved the happy endings everyone gets. And maybe she was too young to be receiving _this_ , but hadn’t she had suffered enough to actually deserve her own _empyrean_? Eight years locked in an icy cold room without any communication was definitely not a _cinch_ to begin with. She had died inside too many times; she deserved to be _alive_ for once. And he, he was her _talisman_.

She looked up at him with the clearest blue eyes and smiled, her hand cupping his stubbly cheek. “I love you, _Just Kristoff_.” The smile elapsed into a shy grin, tears on the verge of spilling at the edge of her sapphires.

He kissed her forehead affectionately, keeping her closer to him as if to protect. “I love you too, _Just Elsa_.” He matched her grin with a kiss on her svelte lips, providing her the warmth she never knew she veritably needed.

They watched the Northern Lights as the sun slowly sunk from its perch, the moon shying away in the distance, waiting for the sky to be as clear as black. The snow still fell atop their noses, but this time it was gentle and serene, unlike the rest of December. With the new knowledge he had acquired yesterday, he now knew why it was the strongest. He sighed as he tried to forget the worries and the risk he was putting himself into. After all, he _did_ pester her when she told him that she did not need any company – not in the slightest. And even though they had just met literally four days ago, he still felt the need to _ask_ her. It wasn’t because of her royal status; it was because he blindly fell _in love_ with her. And wasn’t that reason enough to ask her that _question_? All his life he has been searching for a woman to be with, and now that she was here, flesh and bone, he was to make sure that he wouldn’t let her slip away. They knew of each other just fine, the rest would come in time. It didn’t matter if he hated the way she eats, the way she sleeps, or even picks her nose – and _get this_ , eats it! – all that matters was that he loved her and her him.

So he sighed as he gave his back a mental pat and slowly took out the suede box that was burning through his pocket.

_What was there to worry about?_

With one inhale, he turned her around. “ _Just Elsa_ , this is crazy, since we’ve only just met and we are, let’s say incompatible due to our social status…” He rambled, and to stop him, she placed a cold finger between his lips.

“Get to the point, _Just Kristoff_.” She berated mildly as she gave him a reassuring smile.

He sighed for what seemed like the _thirteenth_ time and smiled unsurely. “All I’m saying is, will you marry me?”

_That was it._

Everything depended on whatever word would escape her lips. Anxiously, his eyes stared down at her pink lithe lips that remained shut. Beads of cold sweat started to bombard his forehead as he licked his lips over and over as if to get the icy feeling off of his back.

_It took longer than he expected._

“I shouldn’t have –”

She cut him off with a wave of a dismissive hand. “Yes!”


	4. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"December never felt so wrong."_

_He didn’t have much._

With his arms filled with her, he kicked the door to his small cabin open, smiling shyly at the princess tucked in his arms. She peered over him through thick lashes and returned the smile, wrapping her small arms around his neck, taking in his wintry scent, letting herself enjoy the warmth she had been denied. Overwhelmed with love, the tears spilled right from her cold blue eyes to her pale freckled cheeks, her smile never fading, her gaze never leaving his perfect face, and her tell-tale sobs resonated, but this time it was out of happiness rather than out of spite and despondence.

 Once he heard her soft sobs and felt his chest being soaked with warm tears, he placed her down his bed, on top of the pillows to soften her back, for he believed that she deserved a more comfortable mattress than sharp golden hay. After all, she _is_ the princess. He erased her tears with his thumb, his other calloused hand soothing her cold cheek. He smiled weakly back at her as he knew exactly why she was crying, and part of him ached for her since he could not imagine such a cruel fate. But, he mused, there was no time for going back now, as he was here, flesh and blood, her pungent reindeer king, all hers and no others. The love she was denied, she will receive, the hugs and the kisses she refused to be a part of, will be part of hers as long as he shall live. A tug as deep as hers pulled him through the folds of love and made him, after everything he had been through, believe in the magic of love. And even though he didn’t know much about love, he could finally say, for what he was feeling right now for her, the butterflies and the extraordinary, that he was undoubtedly in love with her.

He smiled once again as he brought his face to hers, ready to profess his love for her in strings of beautiful words he had learnt from Shakespeare and Maslow. But as their gaze deepened and their breaths shortened, he felt his mind cloud and his tongue roll back in his mouth.

He swallowed and uttered a stupid and cliché statement spoken by commoners in the novels he had read before her. “ _I don’t have much_.”

Her giggles erupted in the warm hut as she pulled him in an embrace, her hands finding their way through his thick hair. He had no choice but to laugh with her as he realized what he had just said, and how foolish he was for saying it.

“You don’t know how much I love you.” He murmured as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking in her scent.

She stiffened at the statement for she knew she wasn’t _exactly_ feeling the same way, but decided to push the thought at the back cold corners of her mind, thinking that it was a thought to be thought over in the latter part of her life. “And I you,”

Fear slithered at the back of his mind as the absence of those three words from her lips circled in his mind. He sighed as he pushed it farther away lest it would spoil his mood. And albeit it mattered to him whether she spoke the words or not, he decided it was a thought for later.

He pulled away from the hug and held her at arm’s length, admiring the beauty bestowed right in front of him, his eyes glistening with tears. She smiled that smile of hers he knew she had beneath the layers she had always seemed to carry with her. A tear slipped and rolled down his cheek as she placed his hand on her face and brushed the loose tendril off before pulling her close for a kiss.

Even though she saw it coming, shock still reigned over as she refused to close her eyes and unclench her fists. But when she felt the tides of unexplainable emotion roll over her heart like a wave, she softened and let her eyes flutter slowly, moving with him in sync, never wanting to let go. She let her hands get lost in his thick hair as he undid her braid, letting her soft blonde hair fall behind her back like a golden stream. He shifted so that he was straddling her, his other hand supporting his weight whilst the other rested on the soft crook of her neck. Both dazed in pleasure and _love_ , they answered the questions with their movement. Hesitantly, she unbuttoned his shirt, hoping that it was the last layer separating her hands from his skin as he worshipped her milky skin with his lips and his tongue, leaving small marks in his trail, marking what was his. Her shaking hands traced over the ripples of his muscles, the warmth of his skin radiating off of him. He shivered and she smirked as she made her way slowly down his waistband. Her breath caught as he unzipped her dress beneath her and removed the clothing that was in between their bodies.

He pulled away and cupped her cheeks as he looked at her dead in the eye, asking her if she was sure with what they were about to do. With a gentle nod, she pushed his pants off, her eyes laid in his, her trust in his hands. He kissed her with a burning passion he didn’t know existed as he made his way in her and loved her like a precious gem. She cried out as she gripped on him tightly like a vine, feeling the turmoil beneath her stomach and the cloud that was forming in her mind as he moved in and out of her, as he offered her the pleasure she had only read in books.

_Was she really sure of this?_

And when both have already reached their climax and was as sated as a sinner, he positioned himself beside her lest he would crush her with his weight. She smiled at his concern, but eventually turned her back from him when she was sure he was asleep. Guilt ate her alive as she hugged herself for dear support, doubting her own decision. She swallowed as she peered over her shoulder, _could she turn her back now?_

She wanted to run and to forget that all of this ever happened, but part of her wanted to stay as this was all she had ever wanted, had ever dreamed of. Her prince charming at her feet – technically, _a pungent reindeer king_ – ready to give her everything she didn’t have, ready to love her like no one ever had. If that was so, if her **ticket** to _freedom_ was already there, why was she suddenly so ready to sprint off and leave him naked and broken? Of course he should mean _more_ than that to her, but could she really blame herself? She wasn’t capable of love as she had a heart as frozen as a block of ice. And with that being said, shouldn’t she spare him the pain and the misery? He deserved someone better than her. Albeit she had what she claimed as a frozen heart, she still had an ounce of warmth to let him go.

But the question was: _why couldn’t she?_


	5. The Throne: Fin

He insisted on taking her back home since he kind of _owed_ it to her and because he wanted to see her _safe_ , but she waved him off and told him that she didn’t need safe when she had her powers intact. She knew that that was a lie since part of her didn’t want to _run off_ to the hills with him or probably it was because she didn’t want him to meet her parents just _yet_. So she smiled, telling him she’d be alright and she would be breathing when he sees her. She stood up and desperately straightened her dress and untangled the knots in her hair, trying to make herself presentable and convincing since the least she wanted was her parents thinking that she was too occupied that night – even when in truth she was _really_. She looked at him through his reflection, the speculation on her face, the doubt clear, and the desperation flashing on her blue eyes. She turned away before he noticed as she fumbled for the ribbons to secure her dress.

“I know you’re nervous.” It was clearly an understatement, but she completely ignored the concern as she stared back at his eyes as if questioning him.

_Was this really going to happen?_

He kissed the back of her neck as he finished the ribbons for her, his hands rested on hers, his smile on her skin. She thought she would lose it as thoughts of uncertainty filled her mind. She knew this was foolish and that it was a danger to play with someone’s heart. But what could she _do?_

His smile grew into a grin, his soft lips still on the base of her neck, his hands scheming their way on her hips, wrapping them possessively around her. She wanted to flinch, but decided to stay still. “I know this looks like a dream.” He murmured low into her ear, his eyes still fixed on her glacial blue ones in the mirror.

 _More like a nightmare_ , she mused.

She could hear the beat of his heart as she doubted hers was functioning as it should. “I never knew I could feel _this_ way.” He continued, perspicuously blinded with bliss and the _blasphemy_ he liked to call love.

She couldn’t bring herself to lie as the emotions she thought she had for him had dispersed and turned into complete ice, settling low in her stomach, reminding her that she had a cold frozen heart. She pushed his hands away – _gently_ – as she turned to face him with a vague smile, her hands shaking behind her back, the frosts spewing their venom in the corners of his shanty. She forced herself not to look at them lest it would make him doubt. She didn’t want him to know that she wasn’t so sure about this whole marriage and commitment _thing_.

 _Why was she holding back? This was her_ ticket _to **freedom**!_

She nervously fidgeted as she thought of an excuse to leave early. She bit her lip, released it as she decided to try an easy smile. “I should go. My parents don’t know that I’m still here.” She said as she slipped on her flats, her hair dangling right behind her, some tangles still visible.

“Okay.” He replied as he enveloped her in a tight hug, taking her by surprise.

Again, she wanted to squirm, but she chose to hug him back, the same fear circling her mind.

He kissed her hair, placing his chin on top of her head. “I want you to know how much I love you.”

She winced. Those three words never failed to make her grow _sour_.

He sighed quite lovingly as he released her – not quietly – and held both of her shoulders at arm’s length. “I’ll meet you at the gates later, okay? I wish you good luck.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before releasing her.

She smiled as she turned her back from him and left him like a fool waiting for _something_ to happen.

\---

Her mother dragged a hand through her hair, the sigh she had heard for two whole hours resonating in the cold room. The queen paced back and forth, her eyes on her footing as she winced at the idea of her sixteen year old daughter marrying someone she just met. She bit her lip as she forced to look at her daughter with steely blue eyes.

“ _You can’t marry a man you just met_.” Her mother said firmly, head held high like the queen she was. Elsa understood why she _cannot_ as she didn’t want to be married at all **if** it wasn’t for the freedom it promised.

She bit her lip at this and sighed the same sigh her mother had been making. “But please –”

The queen only waved a dismissive hand at her to shut her daughter up, her brow arched. “If you could have retaliated with it being _true love_ I could have let you, but I see there’s _something_ you want that doesn’t concern love.” She gave her a worried look as she placed both of her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Look, Elsa. I know you want to be free, but honey, this isn’t the way to get it. You will be when you become queen. You can do whatever you want, even reveal your powers if you want to.”  She gave her a reassuring smile, but seeing Elsa didn’t return the smile, she let go and turned her back to her.

Elsa only sighed again.

“I will give you a choice, become queen and leave him be, become someone or, become as worthless as a rat and as pregnant as a cow. I love you too much to tell you what to do. Choose wisely, Elsa. There can only be one.” The queen turned her head to give her a look of sympathy before walking away.

She sighed as she returned her gaze back at the window and watched Kristoff approach the gates. No tear rolled down her cheek as she placed a cold hand on the window, spreading the thin sinews of frost. She shook her head as she turned her back from the window and walked back to her quarters, picking up the dusty Arendellian book of treaty in the process, sense taking over _stupidity_.

_She belonged in the castle, not in the shambles._


End file.
